Working hard today...feels good after being lazy yesterday. Cleaning the garage, finishing up my car, and bleeding the brakes on my brother's truck. Windy here as usual...

A tug at my heart seated deep in my breast
Swimming tears and smiles; Love’s earnest request.
Softly she called me, rending me in ‘twain
I turned to answer, but she was gone again.
Dearest, your face was agonizingly pretty,
Why did you leave me? I wasn’t ready…
Sometimes in the evening I glimpse you there
Among the trees or in the sunset fair.
Once again that bittersweet melancholy
Rolls down from the hills and conquers me,
And I am swept off to a faraway land
With great high cliffs and warm golden sand…
Lying on my back I dream of great deeds
Castles and ships and men on bold steeds.
Floating gently on an Angel’s wings,
Through drifting stars, over planets’ rings…
The sweet sounds of a piano drifting past,
How I wish the color of the sky would last.
Then it all fades like a beautiful song
Dreams are always destroyed ‘ere long…
But you, my love, are precious to me,
And soon again with you I will be.

What is it that we look for in others?
Why is it that we always let ourselves down?
How important are goals and dreams?
What price should we pay for quiet and stability?
Why can't we love well?
Is life really what you make it? Or what God makes it?
Why does worldly success still seem appealing?

I have parts and pieces of answers to these questions...And I know that more will come in time; there is confusion, yet I am more at peace with life right now than I have been for probably the better part of 4 years. I walked today in the twilight, and I realized why I often feel so disconnected with people in general: Where they see an empty room needing to be filled with joy and people, I see a unique and very appealing beauty in it's emptiness. Where they see a day off as time to go to the beach, I lay on my back on the living-room floor and wonder what I should think about. When she says, "A bunch of us are going to the lake, wanna come?" I reply, "I wish it was just me and you, because I can't really talk in a group." I look up and wish she was somehow the sky and the wind and the smell and all transparent and ethereal, and yet true and real as well. I am lost in romanticism. I used to think that it was just random emotions, and that I was letting myself be ruled by 'feelings'; but there is more to it than that: romanticism is tied deeply to the memory and the intellect as well as the emotions, and it is not easily understood or controlled. It is a wonderful thing in a way, but it can often be too much...it's great for ruining relationships. Still, I trudge on, searching for truth and a better way to live, and meanwhile, my soul is held captive by at least three different things...I need my cracked heart back someday, you know...

O Ventura, you called my name
Far from you life is not always sane
Coffee often at three in the morning
Things were hard but never boring
The mountains brood there
Foggy sea air
Filling my head too much
Books and El Pref lunch
A darkly storm drain
Smoky wind and brain
Why must she always fill me with pain?
Over soon and cars to fill
Voids and broken dreams

Finally branching out and reading more blogs...and adding links and checking out more cool websites and so on...anyways. quick question: does anyone know the name of Josh Clarke's blog, I have been wanting to read it?

Dying always

Often closed

Sleep in the hallways

For they have dozed

Asking out loud

Life is too big

Alone in a crowd

Alone with your pig

Thoughs and gaze shift

Eyes so big

Emotion adrift

Alone

With your pig

Well, I just acquired a new car...That is, I bought a 1963 AMC Rambler 660 Classic for $100 (AMC went out of business in 1969) that belonged to a senile old woman and has not been started for over 12 years. The thing is, this car is in awesome condition. The interior is beautiful except for the carpet, and the outside just needs paint. This car is a dream! Bias-ply tires, an aluminum block, 6-cylinder engine, all wheel drum brakes, mechanical steering, and a push-button AM radio! I an including a picture of the car that I found on the World Wide Web so you will all know it's beauty, but alas, I have yet to take pictures of my own. And I thought I would be without wheels this summer! (By the way, after a new battery and about 2 hours of elbow grease, including removing the oil pump to prime it, re-assembling the dash after having a key made to replace the lost one, pumping up the 40-year-old tires, and adjusting the ignition points, the car purrs like a new-born kitten! Not too shabby...)

Are there words for mystery? And I will always be in the love with the ideas...

I'm home! I have been across the continent; I have seen the underbelly of many cities; I have watched the people as they pass by; I have lost love, but I have discoved friendship; I am wounded but my sight is clearing; I am exhasted yet my enthusiasm is flying; I am...not the same...

Ahhhhh...! The perfect breakfast: last night's pizza, ice cream with special sauce, beer, and potato chips. Nothing quite satisfies the humanity in us like oddity and a bit of randomness.

"I once was a young boy who had big plans, but now I'm just another shitty old man" ---Green Day
 
I caught a glimpse of myself lately: a rather serious-looking young man in ripped jeans, a black shirt, and flip-flops; long messy hair, unshaven, walking in the rain smoking a cigarette. I look like a cross between a fucking hippie and an introverted punk! Fascinating...
In all this wandering I am wondering about this whole self-discovery idea thingy: seems to me like this (travel and new experience) is for the sake of broader knowledge and deeper understanding of the world, but if we want to know ourselves, that knowledge is already in us. It comes down to a matter of proper perspective, humility, charity, responsibility. There is a lot of talk about 'taking it easy', having fun and 'hanging out'. Of course we ought to appreciate others and indulge in wholesome craziness and relaxation, but it's easy to forget ourselves. The greatest fun, I would say, is not constantly seeking the parties and random company, but the cherishing of a true friend and the satisfaction of resolutely treading the one path. Having said all that, I look again at myself in the window of a Denver high-rise and say: 'Look at that pathetic loser! Where is he going anyway?'

Lighten up? Doesn't that mean putting aside rationality concerning that particular subject? Or does it mean changing the meaning or importance that subject holds for you? Perhaps it entails acceptance; perhaps it means curbing emotion; or a simple giving up on certain ideals. If everyone else is right, idealism is evil anyway. Are great things built on realism? But who am I to think I can accomplish great things? Still...lighten up; you wreak everyone and everything around you by this intensity.

This is the first time I have been able to get online since I began this trip, and I have posted all my in-car or late-night crash writings since Washington state. Travel is weird. It takes it out of you. But this is like nothing I have ever done before. It eye-opening, home-sickening, frustrating, beautiful, glorious overloading...

What is it like? I’ll tell you. It’s shit. Just plain old nasty, smelly, mushy shit. That’s all.

I ask you: what role does emotion play in life? It can be the salt for the meat or it can be the mould on the bread; the sugar in the coffee or the pepper in the tea; the gravy for the potatoes or the honey on the cheese. Without it we become deadpan and hollow; with it we are a teary-eyed, bleeding-heart roller-coaster of ineptitude. So how do we cope with it? Even Christ cried over Lazarus' grave, but it is just about the surest route to self-pitying selfishness you can find…

I watch for you in the twilight
I wait for you under the starlight
I wonder whether you are alright
I worry that I give you fright
I wish I may I wish I might
I would know about your plight
I wander and look for my fight
I wager sadness will take flight
I weigh the choices in my sight
I wait for things will be so right

Standing on the highest floor of the tallest building in the world, I tried to wrap my brain around the concept of the skyscraper. How can someone, a mere man, look at a single city block, or half a block, and say to himself, "I am going to put a building here that is more than a quarter mile high." We stood a couple of hundred feet ABOVE the cloud cover and watched the sun glint on the twin spires of the John Hancock building, the only other thing tall enough to pierce the gray ceiling. Below, through the gaps and tatters of rainy clouds, the rooftops of Chicago spread beyond the edge of sight. Seized again with an odd sense of wonder at man's struggle for glory among these architectural marvels I asked myself: Is all this truly great? And somehow it seems both so and not.

All these Eastern cities are towering grey and red brick jumbles of ancient crumbling hotels and warehouses. The architecture is beautiful but dingy, there is rich history here, but enthusiasm seems lost. Everything is lovely and hopeless at the same time. I guess it doesn't help that there has been a lightning storm every day we have been on the road, and the skies are heavy with clouds.
We watched the Evil Dead last night: what a disgusting movie! The rain was coming down and thunder crashing the whole time we watched it. This trip has really given me a feeling of both freedom and confusion. Well, not quite confusion, just an appreciation for a certain amount of stability in life; enough routine to aid personal discipline. At the same time, everything is so beautiful and unfettered. I have no worries, few possessions, and my experience broadens daily. There is definitely a time in life when being a rover is appropriate.

I need nothing right now. 3 hours of climbing 40-150 foot spires and crevices of jagged rock in South Dakota's Black Hills, getting stuck and almost falling numerous times, Mount Rushmore, a petrified forest, the Crazy Horse Monument, Devil's Tower, driving through the fourth electrical storm this week, U2, Social D., Bomb_Funk, getting stuffed at Mickey D.'s---life is good.

A little Social D. never hurt anyone...

Some many questions...life gets more complex, not simpler; yet, life is what you make it, and happiness depends on the will of Our Lord. I must find myself; but I must not lose others in the process. I have things to face; too long have I relied on excuses and the support of others. And I will return, triumphant and proud; head raised and smiling I will face the cross of life and embrace it; and, God willing, I will not always face it alone. There are people who love me, and I love them. The reward of personal peace and security in oneself is that we don't have to hurt those we love by our needy and selfish complaints.

Just passed Crazy Woman Creek...I wish I knew the history behind that name! And here is Dead Horse Creek. I wasn't sure if I would like Wyoming, but this place is cool!

Okay, this is my first in-flight blog. I am doing about 85 somewhere in the mountains of Montana listening to mp3s from my laptop (which is in my lap at the moment) on the descreetly wired amp/sub setup in my dad's car, headed for the Dowell/Shoen wedding and NYC after that. The trees and sky are beautiful. I have never undertaken a trip of this magnitude before, and I get the feeling that I will be a bit different when it's all over; this something I have looked forward to for the better part of six years (travelling the states, that is). It's raining all of a sudden.

Mother Earth calls my name: she wants me to notice her beauty, to appreciate her loveliness. The hills are broad-shouldered and strong, the river is placid. Clouds crown each other above the trees; the sun comes out again.